Reflection
by IcyFlameOfDeath
Summary: Italy, mafia wars broke out. Families turned aginst one and other. No alliance was secure. The first-generation Vongola was getting frustrated.That was when the first-generation Varia -an all-girls group- story had began.


_Pain..._

It hurts everywhere.

_Blood..._

Everywhere was splattered with blood. Fresh, crimson liquid that speckled the walls, pronouncing her worse nightmare. Their final breaths approached them slowly, but surely. Dizziness reigned inside her as black spots danced tauntingly before her eyes. If there were any fear gnawing inside her, it would be already banished to the deepest and darkest edge of her mind.

Grim strokes of scarlet blood scarred what once used to be a cool, marble surface.

_Gone..._

Everything was taken from her in a matter of thirty minutes. Emptiness echoed inside her hollow heart.

Blood tauntingly raced down her skin, dripping off the slender curve of her wrist. Anger pulsated and bloomed with deadly force in her heart, fueled with the ebony shadow of hatred. Her clothes hung, tattered and limply from her bloody, weary body that had no ounce of strength left. Metallic blood seeped out of the fresh wounds that was cast upon her body.

Sometimes it was darkness, sometimes, it would be a small pinprick of light that illuminate her heart, but nothing gave her a mere glimpse of the asylum she was encased in, nothing gave her the slightest clue of the onyx-colour world that she was the prison of. It was not unnerving, it was not scary. It was only silence that greeted her and it was only silence that obligingly answered the questions she attempted to force out of her own mouth with the scarce bits of energy left in her. Her blood was the only companion she had for all the living organisms would not be in this jet-black world of frostiness and hatred. It was only the crimson liquid whose presence was felt so clearly by her, thanks to the searing pain that it had cost her.

It was ironic, how the silence and the asylum only existed in her own mind.

No one must find out and Mizore was determined to guard this secret, for she would not allow anyone to glimpse this weakness of hers and mock her. No chances would exist;none at all.

Mizore panted loudly and made no attempt to calm herself down and silence her boiterious heart beat when she skipped with easy agility from one tree to another. Her damn boss would probably be pissed off by now that she was late. Punctuality was never the top of her list and she could not bother to be early for once. She probably get hell for it later, but she couldn't care less now, for she could only concentrate on one thing at a time.

"Oh, shit!"

She swore with all her might as her concentration slipped and she ended up slamming head first into a tree. Dirt was on her cheeks and she winced, uncertain to touch her forehead that was black-purple, scared to cause any more pain. Her hand raised up like an immediate reaction, but hovered confusedly over the bruise.

Mizore closed her eyes. Trees rustling, wild animals stirring; nothing suspicious. She was safe; at least for the moment. That was when she finaly decided to open her onyx eyes and watched her legs twitched. No immense pain came about and she slumped for a split second, letting her guard down; something that she was advised aginst doing by her superiors. Her stamina was no good and she did not have time, at least that was what Mizore claimed, to improve it.

No one was following her...she hoped.

She need a safer place to hide and was ordered to go to the Vongola Headquarters and deliver a document. But never on earth would Mizore suspect that she was currently grasping in her hand a very important piece of paper that contained some thing that many other Family desired. Vongola Primo would answer her questions, she was told and was thus sent on her way without any warning.

With a barely audible cry, she staggered on her feet and finally gave into her inflaming agony. Her legs were constantly being tortured by their mistress as she moved relentessly on her journey, puasing only once a day to rest for a few hours before embarking on this god-to-be-damn journey. She could have given up, dumpthe document and bury it, making some excuse to her Boss that she had lost it, but she knew that she would be murdered in her bed. Faust, her Boss was not the one fo mercy, Mizore decided.

It was not nightfall and the possible hidding places for her decreased drastically. Mizore's lips tilted up and she smirked, for the rumors from afar had told her that Vongola Primo himself was a kind-hearted person, the exact opposite of her Boss. Mizore was in the dark of the reasons why her boss would bother to cooperate with the Vongola, but it was not her place to ask...and she had a feeling that her saliva would be used futilely and she would ignored, an art that her boss knew well.

"Mizore, why are you slacking?"

Mizore turned slowly giving herself time to think.

It was Mavis. Of course. Their cloud guardian was more sociable than Mizore herself slightly. And knowing their leader, she sent Mavis herself to track Mizore and see to that Mizore succeeded her mission. What made the Boss distrust her, she did not know, but she wasn't happy.

"Why are you here?" She demanded, her eyes narrowing.

Mavis did not even look surprise at her outburst.

"She sent me." Mavis said with a distasteful expression. It did not take a genius to figure out that "she" was the Boss.

"I have to make sure that you complete the mission." Mavis scowled. "And basically babysit you along the way."

"I need no babysitting." Mizore's mist ring burst forth an indigo flame, fueled with her anger.

"Do you think I actually want to do this? I was practically kicked out of the house." Mavis snapped.

"Then go back." Mizore retorted.

"I can't!"

"Tell the Boss..." Mizore paused, thinking. "Tell that _woman _that she isn't my boss, so she can't send someone after me and stalk me."

"Mizore, she isn't my Boss either. Can you just give it a rest?" Mavis rolled her dark purple eyes.

"No! Remind me, why are we following orders from her again?"

"We aren't! She is just too thick to understand sacarsm!"

"I am not going to be called a spinster by someone that got married at the age of 18!"

"Then just ignore her and imagine hitting her on the head with a hammer whenever she provoke you!"

"Yeah, but I still have to face her every single effin' day when I go back!"

"You think I want to?"

"I couldn't care less about you. Go away!" Mizore pointed her finger at a vague direction.

"I can't."

"Then jump off a building!"

"You jump off first!"

"Drink poison!"

"You drink first!"

"Drown yourself!" Mizore was starting to get insulted by Mavis' existence.

"Shut up!"

The girls argued like kindergarten children, calling each other names, each worse than the one before. Just when Mizore began to seriously consider throttling Mavis and hanging her with a rop, a sanp of a twig silenced both girls almost immediately. Mizore's gaze swept the perimeter and Mavis held up a scythe, her stance alerted.

"On the count of three." Mizore muttered softly.

"One...two...'

Another twig snapped.

"Three."

Mavis swept her glowing scythe that was alive with her cloud flame and sent a slice of purple flam into the air, cutting through trees and hitting something that screamed with pain.

'There!" Mavis pointed and the two girls raced towards the groaning figure, their weapons ready.

Lampo, the first-generation Vongola guardian of Thunder laid there, moaning with pain while treating both girls to colourful words in every language that he could think of at the moment.


End file.
